Casualty of Revenge
by Batmanskipper
Summary: Sequel to Behind Enemy Lines: Kowalski and Blowhole's friendship managed to survive, despite the fact they are on different sides. However, when a plan goes wrong, Skipper and Blowhole become locked in a revenge driven battle, with Kowalski caught in the middle.
1. Conflict of Interest

**This is the sequel to the story Behind Enemy Lines. In the last story, I focused on Kowalski and Blowhole's friendship (I'm still going to do a lot on that) but this story will concentrate mostly on Skipper's obsession with capturing Blowhole, Blowhole's obsession with getting revenge on Skipper, and the lengths they will go to achieve their goals.**

_Private Michaels was on watch. Iceberg Pass was one of the Penguins' key Maguffium processing plants, one of the best guarded too. Nothing ever happened there. Suddenly, the young technician was snapped out of his boredom when a series of impossible readings flashing across the screen._

_"__Sir?" Michaels called his superior, pointing at the object on the screen. It showed something, according to the instruments, the size of a car, approaching the coast underwater, faster than any submarine could possibly travel. It was also incredibly radioactive, the readings almost off the charts. The superior scrutinised the screen. The object was getting closer at an alarming rate._

_"__Must be a technical error. Nothing can travel that fast." The superior replied. The unidentified underwater object was almost directly under the base, traveling through the underground rivers as if it had a mind of its own. _

_"__Sir, I don't think…" suddenly the entire base exploded, dark purple Maguffium flames burning, even through the ice of the arctic base. By the time the rescue team arrived, there were no survivors._

"Blowhole's been selling arms to the Squirrels," Rockgut stated.

"I thought Blowhole hated the Squirrels?" Skipper questioned. The two penguins were alone inside the HQ; Skipper had told the others to get snow cones.

"Now he hates us," the expression on his face told Skipper that asking why would only give him the answer: classified, "The Squirrels now have all kinds of high tech Maguffium weaponry based on designs created by the actual inventors."

"Didn't the Squirrels beat us to the Maguffium weaponry back at the start of the war?" Skipper asked, "Blowhole didn't know how to react the Maguffium and fuel cells; they couldn't have gotten the information out of him."

"They received the technology from… other sources," Skipper's eyes shifted uncomfortably to the table. He really shouldn't have asked about that, "The point is, Blowhole, and your lieutenant, are the foremost authorities on Maguffium weapons. We can't let the Squirrels get their hands on either of them. I want Blowhole on our side. With his access to classified Squirrel plans, he'd make an excellent double agent. If you can bring him back to the HQ…"

"Well, sir, our team's tried many times before, but…"

"You've failed to catch him," Rockgut handed him an official looking typed sheet of paper: his orders, "I've had my best strategists go over the case." Skipper sped read through the document. Half way through he looked up, an expression of complete surprise on his face.

"What the tongue tied mackerel?!"

"What was that cupcake?" Rockgut asked.

"Blowhole…"

"After studying the data the analysts found a pattern of recurring supposed 'technical malfunctions'. Too many to be a coincidence."

"But Blowhole still sees Kowalski as a friend?… he's trying got get Kowalski to turn on the Penguins?"

"It seems logical. The percentage of times Blowhole has separated a prisoner from the rest, often taking them to another room supposedly for 'interrogation', has been distinctly weighted towards Kowalski."

"Kowalski wouldn't…"

"No, as far as we know, Kowalski still sees him as an adversary."

* * *

"Here are your orders," Skipper handed Kowalski the piece of paper he had been given by his superior. Upon sighting the title, Kowalski noticeably blanched, "Is something wrong, Kowalski?"

"No, Skipper." Kowalski continued through the document, his grip on the paper increasing until the paper began to crumple. Finally, he reached the end of the document, "You aren't serious…"

"Of course I am," skipper's expression became puzzled, "Those are the special orders directly from Rockgut."

"I…" Kowalski knew he could possibly destroy his career, not to mention have his 'cover' blown, but he couldn't carry out the orders, "I think I may have a conflict of interest. I have to turn down the mission."

"I'd have thought you'd want to recapture Blowhole?" Skipper asked, "after all, after too many refusals, he may simply kill you…"

"Blowhole would never even think of doing that!" Kowalski snapped, though immediately regretted his words, which were practically an admission of guilt.

"Kowalski…"

"Dammit, Skipper," Kowalski slapped himself across the face, "Well, I guess you were going to have to find out some day."

"You aren't…"

"Pythagoras theorem, no, I'm not a spy," Kowalski's wing clenched into a nervous fist as he tried not to remember what the punishment for consorting with the enemy was, "Those times he'd separate me from the group supposedly to torture me as revenge for locking him up, we were in the lab. Working on projects, just for fun. Skipper… I'm sorry, but he's not the villain you think he is."

"So, despite the fact your friendship nearly led you to your death…"

"That wasn't what happened in Philadelphia."

"… You insist on repeating your mistakes, trying to remain friends with the enemy. Great Hoover Dam, you do have a conflict of interest!" skipper screamed. Skipper took another look at the partially crumpled piece of paper in Kowalski's wing. He took a deep breath, before continuing, "Well, Kowalski. Looks like now you get to decide: the Penguins, or Blowhole."

"Blowhole is not an enemy, he's not even a threat, Doris is the…"

"So you keep telling me. He's selling Maguffium weapons to the Squirrels, using _my _company for mackerel's sake!"

"He would never work with the Squirrels!"

"WELL HE IS!" skipper shouted. Kowalski had never seen him that angry before, "Now, Kowalski, I'm **ordering **you to go through with the plan."

"And I won't. I'm still a Penguin, Skipper. That will never change, but I won't go through with this."

* * *

"Kowalski?" Blowhole looked up from the table, his face turning from one of greeting to concern in a matter of seconds. Kowalski looked behind him before taking his seat at the table in the café just outside the Bronx zoo. Blowhole had already ordered Kowalski's coffee, timing it to arrive precisely thirty seconds before Kowalski arrived, one of the dolphin's obsessions being never wasting time. Kowalski always arrived precisely on time, so this was a good arrangement.

"Kowalski, what's going on?" Blowhole had meant to discuss his own, previously major, problem, but saw whatever was troubling his friend was urgent.

"I don't have much time…" Suddenly Kowalski stopped, looking around him again as if he might be being followed.

"If something's wrong…"

"Skipper's lost it. He ordered me to," Kowalski picked up his coffee, swallowing half of it in one gulp, "He ordered me to…" Suddenly Kowalski's eyes lost focus. He tried to stand up, though immediately fell back into his chair.

"Kowalski?"

"Blowhole, I…" Kowalski collapsed forward onto the table.

"Kowalski, what's wrong!" Blowhole began to panic. He recognised the symptoms all too well. Immediately he checked the penguin's pulse. Dead. Poisoned.


	2. Am I Dead?

_Am I dead?_ Kowalski thought as he slowly opened his eyes, only to find nothing but pitch blackness. The last thing he remembered was feeling really dizzy, after that, nothing.

"Am I dead?" Kowalski repeated, this time out loud, trying to raise a wing that felt like lead. Finally, he managed to get the wing to respond, trying to get it to his face to slap himself (skipper always said this was the best way to tell in situations like this). Kowalski's wing hit something hard. It wasn't cold like metal, and the slight grooves in the surface suggested it might be wood. Kowalski slid his wing along what he was 92.3% positive was a varnished metal board towards his face. However, instead of feeling his own beak, his hand hit what felt like plastic. He felt about the object, which seemed to be strapped to his head. It was an oxygen mask. Kowalski considered trying to take it off, but, considering had no idea where he was, though he was fairly confident he was alive, such devices were normally not used pointlessly.

Kowalski continued to explore his darkened surroundings. From what he had discovered, though his mind still felt like it was fifty per cent cotton wool, he was in some kind of varnished wooden box, with an oxygen mask and a cylinder that, judging by the size, would last him just about two hours. Now, the only question, apart from when the air would run out, was why he was in a wooden box that had no air. Slowly Kowalski's head began to clear. Considering the fact he was in a wooden box, why wasn't the surface he was laying on hard? It was actually quite soft and fluffy. Soft and fluffy… pillow… pillow in varnished wooden penguin sized box…

"Oh my positively charged positrons!" Kowalski screamed, scratching desperately at the wood above. He was in a coffin, and judging by the fact that someone had elected to give him an oxygen mask, he had already been buried.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Had Kowalski not been panicking so much, he would have recognised the increased speed of the heartbeat monitor. Panicking wasn't good. The more he panicked, the faster he'd run through the air in the cylinder. If somebody had intended to come back for him, Kowalski was increasing the chance that they didn't make it in time. If it was some kind of cruel way of killing him on Doris' part, he was only speeding up the end.

"Dig faster Rico…" Kowalski though he heard a muffled, but familiar voice order. He dismissed this as his imagination. He knew something about that from Blowhole, who'd heard Kowalski's voice almost every day he was incarcerated, until, he actually did come. Kowalski fought desperately with the wood, succeeding at only riddling his wings with splinters. Suddenly, his wing punched through the wood he was pounding at, as if the six feet of soil he was undoubtedly buried under had mysteriously disappeared. Then, as he tore at the wood, trying to widen the small crack of light that could be seen around his wing, he felt another wing grab his.

"Calm down, soldier, we'll have you out in a few minutes." Skipper shouted. This time, Kowalski knew it was definitely Skipper's voice. He could hear whirring sound as some drill like device removed the dirt from the rest of the box. There was a click as the coffin was unlocked, and Kowalski found himself pulled out of the coffin, panting.

"What in the second shell of electrons is going on!?" Kowalski exclaimed, once he had calmed down enough to make sense. The penguin was seated on the grass next to the open grave, Rico removing the digging device1 attached to his head that he'd used to exhume Kowalski. Kowalski was trying to remember what had happened before he'd woken up as Skipper pondered his answer. Suddenly Kowalski stood up, and despite his weakened state, and took off across the grave yard. He remembered seeing Skipper watching him intently, just as he passed out. Whatever had knocked him out, Skipper had been at least partially responsible.

"Don't let him escape, Rico!" skipper ordered. Rico only gave Skipper a questioning glance before carrying out the order. Kowalski was, of course, no match for Rico, and found himself roughly shoved to the ground, his wings bound with thin wire.

"Look Skipper, contrary to what seems like popular belief," Kowalski glared at skipper indignantly, "I do not exist simply for the purposes of being tied up, blown up, or poisoned by you, Blowhole, and Doris. Now, what the toasted thorium happened?!"

"Take him to the car."

"You still owe me an explanation." Kowalski repeated as skipper drove the commandeered car down the road at a reckless speed.

"I couldn't let you talk," skipper answered, "I was taking a sample of recently captured ACORN poison with me back to the lab…

_Blowhole hadn't been able to run any tests on the body, as he couldn't stay and risk being seen by the police. The average penguin normally wouldn't recognise him as he always made sure the media never got a clear photograph, and the Penguins certainly wouldn't divulge any, but even the slightest research into his background (which would undoubtedly come with being a key witness and possible suspect in a murder) would uncover his true identity. However, he had managed to take a sample of the coffee. Further lab testing had revealed, though he already knew, was that his friend was killed by a dose of the infamous ACORN poison, used exclusively by high level Squirrel agents._

"… I knew you'd been testing a permanent antitoxin for that particular poison last week. I quickly added a little Muiffugam maguffiamate to the ACORN…"

"The chemical that gives the impression of death for 28 hours? Why would you carry that around with you?"

"It's come in useful, more than once. After that I just had to hope that your anti-toxin worked."

"So you were willing to gamble my life on that?" Kowalski asked, outraged.

"It was better than charging in there myself and getting all three of us posted on the six o'clock news, certain death for people like us," Skipper answered. Kowalski nodded grudgingly. Skipper did have a point.

"Why did you bury me?"

"I'm getting to that. Then I remembered that I'd used ACORN to poison you. Blowhole would naturally assume the Squirrels had killed you. Exactly the kind of incentive he'd need to turn on the Squirrels. So, by pulling a few strings, and spreading rumours that the ACORN had been mixed with a contagious virus, managed to have you declared dead and buried all within a day."

Blowhole was ready to call an all-out Maguffium war on his new allies, yet there was one small nagging detail that prevented him from believing the seemingly obvious results. He remembered what Kowalski had said before he'd died.

_"__I don't have much time…"_

_"__Skipper's lost it…"_

Kowalski had also been consistently looking over his shoulder as if he was being followed. There was obviously something strange going on.

"Red one!" Blowhole shouted. Immediately the crustacean approached.

"Yes Dr?"

"Run a trace on the chemical marker in this sample." He ordered.

A few minutes later the lobster returned.

"It's batch 4527 from your Delaware plant." The lobster reported, returning the sample.

"Was this batch stolen?"

"No sir."

"Who was this particular sample sent to?"

"Agent Fred."

"The Agent who, out of pure stupidity, walked directly into the Penguin HQ and asked which one was Skipper and if he could set up hidden microphones?"

"Yes, Dr Blowhole, he was captured by Skipper at about ten o'clock Tuesday morning. The samples were then transferred to Rockgut's office at five o'clock that afternoon. Evidently Fred had managed to use half a bottle of the toxin before he was captured, even though head office sent him no targets…"

The lobster was interrupted as Blowhole's flipper angrily swept the contents of the table to the floor, glass shattering and multi coloured liquids swirling about on the floor.

"I knew Skipper was obsessed with capturing me," Blowhole thought aloud angrily, "but to murder your own lieutenant…"

**1**** From the episode Work Order**


	3. A Meeting With a Dolphin

Rico had removed the bonds, allowing Kowalski to walk from the car to the HQ so it wouldn't seem so obvious they were transporting a prisoner. After all, if it was discovered that a member of the team was being held for attempted espionage, the Squirrels might see this as an opportunity to attack the team while they were emotionally weak. Several times Kowalski had attempted to make a break for it, each time had been unsuccessful; he didn't even attract a police officer. Finally, the team reached the zoo, though when asked repeatedly how their day was going by Marlene, said nothing but classified, Kowalski given the implied warning that if he tried anything he would be knocked out.

"Hello Skippah," Private greeted upon hearing the patter of feet on the ladder leading down into the HQ.

"Have you cleared out the lab and bolted the air vents?" Skipper asked.

"Yes, sir," Private replied, watching the three other members of the team warily, "I don't suppose I could ask where you went?"

"So they haven't arrested you yet?" Kowalski complained sarcastically. Immediately, Skipper slapped him across the face.

"I was hoping you'd be considerate enough to keep the Private out of this." Skipper hissed. Private looked on, completely confused.

"What's wrong with K'walski?" He asked. Kowalski rolled his eyes. It was easier to feel angry and resentful, than betrayed.

"Classified." Skipper answered, marching Kowalski towards the lab, which had been modified to become a makeshift cell. The room was completely empty except a mattress and a pillow. The only light came from a single bulb, encased in bullet proof glass. Skipper didn't want to take the chance that Kowalski would somehow find a way to turn it into a lock pick.

"Make sure you check your coffee for deadly poisons, Private." Kowalski said as skipper shut the door or the lab, locking all of the modified locks Rico had installed earlier that morning.

"Skippah, why are you locking up K'walski?" Private asked again, "What did he mean that I hadn't been arrested yet?" Skipper's expression stiffened uncomfortably. It was obvious from the leader's demeanour he didn't like what he was doing.

"All you need to know, is that Kowalski is a traitor and will be held here until further notice," Skipper walked towards the ladder to exit the HQ.

"Where are you going?"

"I've got a meeting with a dolphin."

* * *

Private could hear the steady patter of Kowalski's feet pacing the room. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, pause, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, pause, tap…

"K… K'walski?" Skipper had instructed Private not to speak to the prisoner while he and Rico were out, but even an episode of the Lunicorns turned up to full volume couldn't keep out the consistent footsteps.

"Yes Private?" The tapping stopped as Kowalski answered. Kowalski was feeling less resentful towards the younger bird. Private was only following orders, and, technically, he was a traitor. Still, now that his anger was starting to dissipate it was becoming harder to shake the feeling of betrayal. Skipper had poisoned him! He'd been lucky that the formula had worked, and Skipper knew it. As much as Kowalski was loath to admit it, his inventions didn't usually work.

"Um… are you alright in there?"

"I don't suppose you have a spare blackboard and chalk? It would be nice to work on a few theories."

"Sorry, K'walski, but Skippah said I wasn't to give you anything." The tapping resumed. The sound seemed to get louder and louder, the sounds sharper and sharper until they were almost painful. Private couldn't take it anymore.

"K'walski?"

"Yes Private?" the tapping stopped again.

"Um… are you hungry? I was making some sardines on toast, I wondered if you wanted some?"

"Yes, I would like something to eat. I haven't had anything since yesterday. I guess Skipper forgot to include fish with my coffin."

"Coffin?" Private asked, slightly alarmed.

"Nothing." Now that Kowalski had had time to think about it, Skipper was right. The full details of his 'death' and subsequent panic at awakening in a coffin would be too much for the naive penguin, who tried to only see the best in everyone. Kowalski's world, was very different.

"Right… um… I'll start on the sardines." Private began to walk away.

"Private?"

"Yes K'walski?"

"I don't suppose I could go for a swim?"

"Um…" Skipper had told Private to be careful of what Kowalski said, that he might try to trick him into releasing him. Skipper had even warned that he might try to appeal to their friendship, arguing that he wouldn't run away, and that Private shouldn't believe anything he said, but what harm could come out of a short swim? "Ok," Private unlocked the door to the cell, "I'll have to watch, though."

"That's fine. You can count my laps for me."

Kowalski had planned to grab the younger penguin as soon as he was released from his cell, but found the action to be too close to what skipper had done to him. In the end he hoped to sneak off while Private's back was turned.

"Private, is that the toast I smell burning?" Kowalski asked as he completed his eighth lap.

"Oh yes, the toast!" Private jumped out of the water, and dashed into the HQ. As soon as Private was gone, Kowalski climbed over the fence surrounding the habitat and was half way to the gates when he suddenly found himself hanging upside down by his foot. _Damn skipper and his booby traps! That penguin thinks of everything!_ However when Kowalski reached up to attempt to unsnare himself, he found that it was not wire or rope that left him dangling from the lamppost, but woven seaweed.

"Blowhole…?"

"Wrong sibling." Kowalski whirled around, or at least tried his best to, at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Doris?!" the dolphin motioned for the lobsters behind her to cut him down.

"Really, Kowalski, I can't have you ruining my plan at this stage." She replied.

"You planned all this?!"

"You didn't realise I planned all this?"

"Of course I did," Kowalski answered hurriedly, "Well, I guess I'm out of the frying pan and into the fire."

"Not exactly. I'm throwing you back." Kowalski hit the ground with a thud and a cry of pain. It wasn't very comfortable being dropped on your head, "Now, you're going to go back to the HQ, continue with your laps, then when Private comes back with your toast, you will request to be sent back to your cell? Am I clear?" the two lobsters, weapons drawn motioned for him to start walking, though remained out of sight of the HQ, "If you don't, I might change my mind and kill you."

"Why are you sending me back?"

"It's so much more fun for you to guess. Now start walking."

* * *

"Dr Blowhole, I presume?" Skipper asked, watching the tall figure slowly walk towards him out of the evening mist.

"Very funny. What do you want?" the two penguins had arrived alone at the designated location, an empty auto junkyard.

"To help you," Skipper replied, "You're investigating a mutual friend's murder. The Penguins are anxious to bring Kowalski's killer to justice too."

"Oh really."

"He was my friend too." Blowhole could barely contain his rage at the comment. The hypocrite!

"Alright. What do the Penguins want in exchange for 'justice'. I thought stuff like that wasn't supposed to have a price."

"This is war. So we have an agreement? You'll turn double?"

"How can I work with my friend's killer?" Blowhole couldn't help but notice the irony in his statement. How could he work with his friend's killer?

"You have a point," Skipper was about to turn to leave, when he stopped, "Out of curiosity, why did you start selling to the Squirrels? You used to only use the tech for yourself."

Blowhole no longer felt the need to disguise his ignorance of Skipper's plot. He had found out all he wanted to know. His expression morphed into one of pure hatred, "I learned the truth."

Suddenly, the crane came to life, the gigantic magnet swinging towards the penguin.

"Great shrimp sandwich!" He exclaimed. His scans of the area showed Blowhole was alone, and there was nobody at the crane's controls.

"You said come alone, skipper. You never mentioned anything about tampering with the area we meet at ."


	4. Two Double Agents

Skipper dived out of the way as the crane threw the car directly behind where he'd been standing half a second ago a good hundred feet.

"You missed." Skipper commented dryly.

"Look again." Blowhole spat. Skipper looked behind him, only to see the car had smashed into a wall of compacted squares of metal. The car seemed to be stuck in place. Suddenly, it budged a fraction, and the whole stack shuddered.

"Oh sardines," Skipper muttered, before running as fast as he could away from the gigantic shadow cast by the wall as it started to collapse downward. He switched to belly sliding, narrowly dodging the cubes of metal falling from the top of the stack, each heavy enough to crush him. But that was only the preview. The real thing was yet to come. Without much warning, the whole wall collapsed.

_Just a few more feet… going to make it… _Well, Skipper nearly made it. The wall came crashing down, fortunately missing some of his more vital organs, but catching his foot. The penguin screamed in agony as it was crushed beneath the metal.

"Blowhole, why are you doing this?" Skipper asked.

"You killed him, Skipper," Blowhole's voice barely raised above a whisper, though he was soon in full evil genius speech mode. He approached slowly, savouring the moment. He could take his time; it wasn't like skipper was going anywhere, "We weren't getting in the way of the war, yet as always, you just had to force us to pick a side. Then, when Kowalski didn't pick the side you wanted him too, you couldn't respect that."

"I knew that, why else would you try to kill me," Skipper winced, trying to keep it together despite the pain.

"Not try, Skipper. I'm not done with you yet."

"_Try_, Blowhole. I'm not dead yet. What I meant was, why join the Squirrels. 'I learned the truth is pretty vague'."

"You know what I mean."

"No I don't."

"It's a bit late to go into denial."

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

"Where's the truth serum when you need it…" Blowhole muttered, though was immediately met with a pang of grief. Kowalski always had a bottle of hot sauce filled with truth serum.

"Humour me."

"Fine," Blowhole growled. He hated it when people tried to continue with a lie even after it was obvious they had been caught, "When you left me at the zoo, it wasn't because it was a choice between saving me and that agent. Back when I was being held at the aquarium, it belonged to the Penguins, though it was soon retaken by the Squirrels. Your men wanted to do the right thing, disobey orders and accidentally trip over the release button or something, but you and your misguided loyalty wouldn't allow that."

"You were captured by the Red Squirrel, why would he hand you over to the Penguins?"

"Alright, I'll tell you a story. It's about two double agents. I think you may have heard it before," Blowhole sneered, "Once upon a time there was a Squirrel code named Red, and a penguin named Buck Rockgut. The penguin worked for the Squirrels and the squirrel worked for the Penguins. One day, the Squirrel was told that a certain agent, whom the Penguins had been watching for some time, was masquerading as a Penguin agent and planned to get to two high school geniuses who had unknowingly invented the ultimate doomsday weapon and trick them into spilling their secrets first," Blowhole paused, looking down at the penguin who was still struggling in vain to escape, "Sound familiar?"

"Not in the least."

"Well, the Red Squirrel was instructed to capture the two kids and 'oh no, I accidentally managed to walk strait into a Penguin base. Silly me'. Unfortunately, he only got one of the targets, and by the time he realised this was the wrong one, Rockgut had already tricked the other into spilling his secrets. Well, they couldn't let me go knowing that they had used horrific tortures on a child, and that I could tell that to the press, so they kept me at the Aquarium, always under the impression I was being held by the Squirrels on the off chance I made it out and kept up the torture because, oh well, they thought it was funny."

"If you thought you were being held by the Squirrels, why not allow you to leave with that propaganda, which would be so damaging to the other side?"

"My age didn't fool anyone. It was only a matter of time until I worked it out, which I now have. But then you couldn't let Kowalski find that out. Find out that you and the original team, which disappeared mysteriously, had actually gone into the Aquarium to interrogate a certain Agent Harwood, whose body was later found washed up on some obscure beach," Blowhole watched Skipper's angered expression as he realised just how much Blowhole knew, "Now, I'm guessing you know the rest of the story."

"The Red Squirrel decided the grass was greener on the Squirrel side of the fence. Rockgut, who's life's work had been trying to capture the Red Squirrel couldn't bear to be on the same side as him, so changed to the Penguins," Skipper finished the story, "Alright, so I am a merciless psycho. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I'm glad you finally decided to tell the truth," Blowhole answered nonchalantly, turning his back on the penguin arrogantly, "But I'm still going to kill you."

"_Try_ to kill me." Skipper corrected.

"No, kill…." Blowhole turned around, "How did you…!" Skipper stood, free of the compacted metal cubes before his enemy.

"A piece of pipe next to me allowed me to leave the metal off my foot long enough to escape," Skipper replied.

"You're still wounded."

"And have an emergency radio." Skipper knew he wouldent be able to catch the dolphin with his crushed foot, and had no choice but to call in an evacuation squad, as much as he hated retreating. Still, he got to live to fight another day.

* * *

Kowalski lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. What was Doris planning? She obviously wanted to set the two enemies at eachother's throats, but weren't they already? There wasn't a single day when Skipper didn't mention Blowhole in one shape or form. He didn't know about Blowhole, they never discussed polotics or work, but if he knew Blowhole, Skipper and Blowhole, were far more similar than either would admit. Then there was the matter of the poisoning. If Doris had planned all this, then why was he still alive? Skipper had been able to slip the ACORN into his drink easily, so why hadn't Doris actually killed him? It would have had the same result, and would have decreaced the chances that Skipper finally saw some sense and went after her.

"Dammit, Rico, don't you know how to set a bone?" Kowalski heard Skipper shout through the door.

"Ah no a medic!" Rico protested.

"I'm happy to have a try, though I have no idea what I'm doing," Private offered.

"Alright, go ahead." Skipper replied. He assumed the younger penguin would be gentle.

"I'll start on three. One… two…"

"GREAT FLYING MOON CATS!" Skipper screamed. After a few seconds, and a lot of shouting he asked, "Is… Is it done…?"

"Um… Rico, is it supposd to be backwards?"

A few minutes, and even more shouting, later the door to Kowalski's cell opened.

"Um Kowalski, I don't suppose you could give it a go?" Private asked. Kowalski coulden't belive his luck. This was the perfect opportunity to escape.

"No, Private, don't let him out of that cell!" Skipper shouted. Private began to close the door.

"Alright Skipper, if you don't want any medical attention. Just don't blame me when your foot turns all black and rotten and the foot has to be amputated…"

"Get him over here," skipper ordered, "Just… keep an eye on him." Kowalski stepped out of the cell, eying the other penguins thoughtfully. Skipper was completely incapacitated, and wouldent be a threat. Private was already uncomfortable with keeping him there, and would only chase him half-heartedly. Rico was really the only real threat.

"Rico, would you get me my miniature robotic laser," Kowalski exploited the rest of the team's lack of medical knowledge, and making the problem of skipper's broken foot sound more dramatic "I think it's with the rest of the contents of my lab, down on the eighth floor."

"'ipper?" Rico asked.

"Go ahead." Skipper grumbled. Kowalski waited for the elevator to reach the eighth floor. Kowalski was about to cut the elevator's power and make a run for it, when he noticed the distinct red beam of a laser sight. Of course: Doris was out there. Escape was now no longer an option. Well, there was only one other thing he could do; he certainly wasn't spending the rest of his life in his lab-turned-cell. Kowalski made a dive for the elevator emergency power switch.


	5. Message in a Bottle

Kowalski grabbed the emergency power switch, leaving Rico trapped down on the eighth floor. Well, until he realised he could climb up the shaft through the elevator's emergency access.

"K'walski?!" Private exclaimed. Skipper knew what he was going to do, but was powerless to stop it; Kowalski was on the other side of the room.

"Unlock computer. Authorisation: Kowalski," Kowalski shouted at the computer. He knew the team had changed the passwords, but he also knew Skipper had no idea how to change the voice command settings.

"Activating coffee machine." The computer replied coolly. Maybe there was a good reason Skipper didn't bother changing them.

"No, don't activate the coffee machine, unlock the computer. Authorisation: Kowalski!" Kowalski repeated angrily, knowing there was a decent chance the laptop mistook it for 'restore power to main elevator'."

"Voice recognised. Welcome Kowalski." Kowalski waited another agonising thirty seconds as he logged on.

"K'walski, what are you doing?!" Private exclaimed.

"Well don't just stand there, stop him!" Skipper shouted, trying his best to limp across the room himself, though only ending up in a lot of pain. Immediately, Kowalski was at the keyboard.

"He could just be trying to check his emails." Private replied, looking for an excuse not to go up against the scientist, despite the fact there was a decent chance he would win despite the size advantage. However, Private soon saw this was not what Kowalski was doing as he saw him search the address book in the video conferencing application.

"B… Barry… Bella… Bertie…" Kowalski searched through the list of hidden files, most belonging to ex-girlfriends, "Blowhole!"

"Stop him Private, he could compromise us!" Skipper shouted. Private still stood there, indecisive.

Kowalski hit the call button, hoping Blowhole wasn't in the lab. He'd considered sending an email or something like that, but Blowhole wouldn't believe it was him. Even with a video, he might think skipper was in the background with a gun to his head, but at least he would know he was alive.

"Oxidize it!" He exclaimed. Of course Blowhole just had to be in his lab. He had no choice.

"Authorisation: Kowalski. Password: Doris. Activate override protocols installed on Blowhole's laptop." That message was going to get to him if he had to reveal the fact he had hijacked his friend's computer. At first he'd felt guilty about that, but he didn't have time for that now.

"Um, Doris?"

"Yes Red one?" Doris turned around, looking over the lobster at the screen in front of him.

"Somebody is trying to send a message to your brother." The lobster replied.

"Kowalski." She turned back to the lobster, "Jam it. Now."

"The message is partially sent…"

"Just make sure it doesn't get through!"

Blowhole opened the lid of his laptop, intending to log his achievements in his search for Skipper. Instead his screen changed, almost as if it had a mind of his own.

"Skipper…" Blowhole growled. He had no idea what it was, but it had to be some kind of scheme cooked up by his arch nemesis.

"Blowhole… Skipper… Help me," The screen showed a crackly, almost ghostly video. He could barely make it out to be…

"Kowalski?"

"…Central Park Zoo…" the message cut off. Blowhole stared at the now blank screen. He didn't know what to believe, though he could think of only two possibilities. First of all, it could be some kind of ghost in the machine. Literally. But Blowhole soon dismissed this. He wasn't a superstitious person, as much as the ghostly message made him think just that. No, the only other option was that Skipper was simply trying to make him think that. Thinking it would put him off, or just as a sick joke. If it was, Skipper had used the wrong tape. Now he knew where Skipper was hiding… or did he? Skipper might just want him to think he was hiding there. Well, it was worth a try.

"Red one!" Blowhole shouted. Immediately one of the crustaceans scuttled in to the room.

"Dr Blowhole?"

"Set course for Manhattan."

"Doris…" The lobster stared at the floor.

"You failed, didn't you?" she finished for him.

"I wouldn't put it that way…"

"You two!" Doris pointed at two of the lobsters, "Make sure he ends up in the penguin's nuclear reactor," She drove across the room, turning her back on the screaming lobster, "No… this is all going wrong."

"Ma'am?" one of the lobsters asked, the increased formality coming from fear of a similar fate.

"We have to get him out of there; he'll ruin everything," she thought aloud, "Why does he always have to think of everything?"


	6. Where Is He

"Trace the location, Kowalski." Skipper demanded for what seemed like the millionth time.

"No." Kowalski continued to refuse.

"If you don't trace the location, I will," Skipper threatened.

"Then why are you asking me?" Kowalski replied, pointing out the flaw in his ex-(though he was still debating this) leader's logic.

"Rico, you can let go." Skipper ordered. Kowalski looked down at the seemingly endless drop he was suspended over. Skipper had turned off the lights in the elevator shaft, so Kowalski didn't know just how far he was going to fall. Still, Skipper was bluffing. Definitely bluffing. Skipper was one of his oldest friends. Even questioning that, why would Skipper care so much about keeping him alive, requesting scuba diving equipment from Rockgut for an on land mission was a little suspicious, if he was simply going to kill him?

"Oo sure?" Rico questioned, looking down at the open shaft, the elevator had already been moved down to the bottom floor. Rico's doubt over carrying out the action made Kowalski uneasy. Rico rarely questioned Skipper, though that was normally because he didn't care. Still, Rico could be acting…

"Last chance, Kowalski. It's a 130 foot drop. There's no way you can survive that." Skipper continued to threaten.

"At least it will be quick." Kowalski replied, referring to Rico's half-hearted torture session. Skipper really shouldn't have trained him so well. A whirring sound Kowalski couldn't place echoed down the elevator shaft and a few seconds later Kowalski felt the rope go slack, immediately going into a free fall. _No, that couldn't be right, Skipper wouldn't_… As spontaneously as the fall had begun, the rope went taught and Kowalski jerked to a stop, "Was that supposed to scare me?" Kowalski shouted up at the square of light that framed Skipper at the top of the darkened elevator shaft, feeling embarrassed that he had been fooled, though only for a split second.

"No," Kowalski immediately felt himself dropped again. If this was an attempt to scare him, it was working, but he wouldn't give up his friend. Skipper knew he wasn't afraid of heights, but he was of unknown variables. The elevator was dark, he could only see Skipper above him, but apart from that he had no data. If he had data, he could at least keep his mind off things trying to calculate the time it would take him to fall, or which one of his many injuries would be the fatal one, "That was to prevent you from breaking your neck as we lower you an extra lower you an extra 70 feet," Kowalski felt himself being dropped again.

"So you've just confirmed the fact that you aren't actually going to kill me." Kowalski countered, his confidence regained. Skipper was stalling for time, despite his actions, Kowalski was sure Skipper still considered him his lieutenant; his brother in arms. Not unexpectedly whoever was holding the rope let go again, and Kowalski began to wonder if maybe he shouldn't have said that.

Well, at least he had a bit of data to work with now. All the other drops had lasted between 8 and fourteen seconds. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… Kowalski mentally counted down the seconds until the rope would catch him again. It wasn't so bad now he knew what was coming. 14, 15, 16… no, this wasn't right. Still, it was going to stop soon, Skipper was just trying to mix things up. Kowalski braced himself for the inevitable tug of the rope tightening around his waist, constantly alert just in case the next second was it. 17, 18, 19… Now Kowalski was starting to get nervous. He had little data to work with, but as far as he knew, if he continued to fall for another couple of seconds, he'd have gathered enough momentum that when the rope stopped… well, Skipper could pick up both his pieces at the bottom of the shaft. 20, 21, 22…

Just as Kowalski was beginning to doubt whether the rope was going to catch him this time, the free fall suddenly stopped, the rope cutting painfully into his skin. Though Kowalski tried to supress it, he couldn't help but let out a low cry of pain.

"Hm, getting to you, am I?" Skipper taunted, "Well, you are now at 37 feet. Now, I doubt you'd survive that, but at least it would take you a decent amount of time to die. Even if you do, we can drag you back up and drop you again." Kowalski looked back up at Skipper to counter the threat with something intelligent or witty, which he had yet to think of, but the sight that met his eyes made him forget all else.

"Ah… the fraying rope," Kowalski tried to keep the fear out of his voice, "little cliché, don't you think?" there was a murmur of voices above him, but no response, "Skipper?!" Kowalski was starting to lose more and more of his control with every snapping strand, each taking him a centimetre lower, and lower, and lower, "SKIPPER!" there was still no answer. He was down to a single fibre…

Snap!

Kowalski screamed as the final fibre broke, sending him hurtling down into the darkness. Well, he didn't scream for very long, as the drop was only a few feet. Kowalski rubbed his wing as he stood up, his legs shaking. He'd landed on the elevator? Suddenly, the same whirring noise he had heard every time they dropped him restarted, and the elevator started to rise.

"Well, Skipper, shall we move on to the next _fun_ activity?" Kowalski grumbled Skipper avoided eye contact with the other penguin, saying nothing. It was now clear to Skipper that his only threat, was now no longer threatening. What annoyed him most was that it had all been for nothing. Having to hurt Kowalski, his closest friend after Manfridi and Johnson died, hurt him almost as much as it did Kowalski. But what was more painful, was the sullen resolve his friend used to shield his own feelings. Was he really that scary? Well, at least he'd kept the elevator there, just in case. It would have hurt even more if he'd died.

"Where is he, Kowalski?" Skipper growled. Kowalski looked out the window. Yep, the laser was still there. No use trying to escape.

"Guess." There it was again. Skipper mentally winced. Skipper had seen the guarded look Kowalski gave him before. Agent Harwood had looked like that after his first week in the Aquarium, resentful, yet afraid. Skipper had felt especially guilty when he later discovered the man was innocent, though when he was released, he was never the same again, nor did he ever forgive him. He just hoped Kowalski wasn't beyond that point already, but what choice did he have but to keep going? Blowhole had to be stopped, no matter what the cost. There were too many lives at risk to worry about his friend.

"Alright, I will. Private?" the younger penguin poked his head through the fishbowl entrance, he hadn't wanted to watch, Skipper hadn't forced him. A penguin his age shouldn't have to cope with this kind of stuff; he had, and it left him pretty messed up, "get me a list of Grant Inc. properties." Kowalski relaxed slightly. Skipper was going to be off on a wild goose chase for a long time.

"Thank you, Kowalski, for telling me he is not holed up in one of my buildings." Kowalski scowled. Now he was determined not to give any signs. Skipper, despite his arrogant façade was glad this less violent approach was working, though the previous attempts were necessary. If Kowalski was on edge from the elevator, he'd be too busy looking for hidden tasers to remember to hide his body language.

"Alright Private, get me a list of buildings Blowhole has bought within the last ten years." Kowalski wasn't going to be caught out again, instead trying to look upset that he had guessed correctly, despite the fact this attempt was equally incorrect.

"Thank you Kowalski, for telling me he did not buy it under his own name." skipper answered. It was simple: Kowalski would try not to make the same mistake twice and would do the opposite, "Now, I know Blowhole's teamed up with someone else… Clemson?" Kowalski had his back to Skipper. After all, if he couldn't see his expression, he couldn't guess, "I already know, Kowalski, its Hans."

"I won't let you…!" Kowalski rushed towards the computer, intending to destroy it before skipper could initiate a search.

"Rico, restrain him." Kowalski's wing was almost pulled out of its socket as Rico grabbed him. Kowalski stopped struggling. It was futile.

"Alright, boys," Skipper looked up from the computer, "Blowhole's holed up in a warehouse near the docks, purchased under one of Hans' aliases. Let's go." Kowalski looked back through the window, hoping Doris also intended to prevent Skipper from leaving. The laser was gone. Where were the evil dolphin super villains when you needed them?

**I wrote this chapter in response to a review I received. Yes, Skipper is kind of a villain, but as you will see in later chapters, there really aren't any heroes and villains, all the characters, so far (even Doris), think they are doing the right thing. **


	7. Returning the Favor

_"We have to get him out of there; he'll ruin everything," she thought aloud, "Why does he always have to think of everything?"_

"What are they doing now, red one?" Doris asked impatiently. She needed to get Kowalski out of there before Blowhole arrived, which would be soon.

"Um…" The lobster watched the real-time footage of the ex-lieutenant being handcuffed and dragged without ceremony towards the door, making sure Doris didn't, "They're… ah… serving tea."

"We need to get them out of there. They had to have found out where my brother is. Kowalski should have broken by now." The lobster stiffened, Doris wasn't easily fooled.

"Well," the lobster changed the camera to one showing the outside of the HQ, "They're leaving…"

"Alright, send the teams in and well break him out." Doris ordered.

"Well, they're taking the target with them."

"Should have accounted for Skippers paranoia," Doris muttered, "Alright, we stay where we are. They might come back. We can't let them know I'm involved. Not until the last minute."

* * *

"Ah, Skippar," Hans greeted sarcastically, "my old frenenemy."

"If it isn't Hans the Puffin," Skipper matched his tone, "Last time I saw you, well, you turned a somewhat liveable cold war into an all-out Magauffium battle, bordering on possible Armageddon."

"I did?" Hans replied, his attempt to remain nonchalant disappearing, revealing the raw anger that bubbled beneath the surface, "I guess history is written by the winners."

"By the winners? Denmark's been trying to get me extradited for years!"

"You weren't chased out of your homeland by the very people you once thought of as brothers."

"Strange how history repeats itself." Kowalski muttered, having given up struggling against the cement pillar he was chained to long ago. The two birds spun around, glaring.

"This is personal." Hans stated.

"Keep out of it, Kowalski," Skipper finished, "Well, Hans, I didn't come all the way here to drag you back to a nice comfy jail cell in Denmark, but that's just going to be an added bonus. Now, where's Blowhole?"

"You really think I would tell you that?"

"No," Skipper launched himself at the puffin.

"Just like Denmark, Skipper," Hans dodged Skipper's punch, "You always have to attack first."

"And just like Denmark," Skipper growled, taking another swing at the puffin, "You won't shut up!" The punch caught Hans directly on his beak, sending him stumbling backwards several steps. Skipper attacked again, vicious and wild, punching the puffin back another few steps. Skipper continued attacking, his attacks becoming a pattern. A pattern, Hans could exploit. Suddenly, Skipper found his wing caught and twisted backwards, the puffin using his advantage to elbow the other penguin in the face.

"A' enough" Rico growled, regurgitating a rocket launcher. Rico lined the sight up with the unsuspecting enemy's head, and pulled the trigger. However, it would seem Hans wasn't so 'unsuspecting', diving out of the way, swinging skipper between him and the flying debris as a gigantic hole was knocked in the wall and floor. Suddenly, Skipper pulled himself forward, catching Hans off balance and plunging the two into the hole in the floor.

* * *

"Do you have all the zoo residents, red one?" Blowhole asked, standing in the centre of the zoo, just outside the penguin's empty habitat.

"Yes Dr, we've put them all in the lemur habitat." The lobster replied.

"Good." Blowhole answered, driving down the empty brick sidewalk and towards the aforesaid habitat.

The prisoners were seated, wings, paws, and hands on their head, surrounded on every side by lobsters. Most of the group looked terrified; their eyes firmly planted on the ground. Others looked more sullen at their capture, glancing at the lobsters surrounding them, though knowing it was futile to attempt to escape. Joey could take out six or seven of them in one punch, but not armed lobsters.

"Dis is absolutely ridiculous!" Julian shouted, marching about the area, ignoring the lobster's threats, "I am de king, and a king kneels before no one else!" Half the zoo winced with every word the lemur shouted, expecting that, at any second, he would become the late King Julian.

"If it isn't the double agent," Blowhole drove up to the habitat. Suddenly, Julian fell silent. Julian had tangled with the dolphin before, and though he wasn't particularly bright, he could tell from the cold demeanour and ruthless expression, this wasn't the same Blowhole he'd met before. Ringtail slowly sat down, imitating the position of the other animals, "If he moves, red ones," Blowhole ordered, "Do not hesitate to shoot him," Blowhole drove up to the front of the group of prisoners, the wheel of his Segway inches from the prisoner at the front. He then turned to the lobster next to him, "Have you prepared the penguin habitat?"

"Yes sir, modified as you requested." The lobster replied.

"Good. I'll start with the ones most likely to know where the penguins went; I'm less likely to waste time. Have you got the maguffium?"

"Yes sir."

"After we're done we'll destroy the place," Blowhole turned off in the direction of the penguin habitat, "There must be at least one person in here Skipper cares about."

"Why are you doing this?" Blowhole turned around, surprised by the unexpected voice.

"Why am I doing this?" Blowhole repeated blandly. The otter nodded, trying to keep it together under the Blowhole's glare. Marlene swallowed; hazarding a glance at the dolphin she had always thought was a figment of Private and Julian's imagination.

"Yes." Marlene answered, after no response was given to her nod. Blowhole looked down at her. Marlene's gaze returned to the grass.

"Skipper was responsible for the loss… of a very close friend, if you must know," Blowhole turned back towards the penguin habitat.

"We had nothing to do with that!" Marlene shouted, standing up. She wasn't going to sit there and be destroyed out of some psychotic dolphin's twisted revenge. She took one step after the dolphin, but stopped when she suddenly became aware of the fact that she was now the target of most of the lobster's weapons.

"Do you have a death wish, otter?" Blowhole asked, his steel eyes bored through her head. The otter fell silent. Blowhole's attention returned to the lobster acting as his assistant, "Bring her first. Her reaction proves she's obviously close to the target."


	8. Favorite Unofficial Missions

**_At a Classified Place and Date (A really really long time ago)_**

_"…__It's a difficult mission, Skipper. Especially for an agent so junior…"_

_"__I can handle it, Agent Rockgut, sir."_

_"__The microfilm is being transported hidden in a sandwich. An open sandwich. We want it destroyed. Now, as a safety precaution, the half of the sandwich made of brown bread contains a chemical, which, when it reacts with the chemical on the microfilm side, will destroy the microfilm. Close the sandwich, and your mission is complete."_

_"__If a war breaks out between the Puffins and the Squirrels, it is vital we have some kind of protection, if we are to remain neutral, and not be invaded. Understood, Agent Hans?"_

_"__Yes sir."_

_"__You will take over from Agent Olsen, who will be bringing the microfilm into the country. You are to ask: 'How was your trip'. Agent Olsen will then answer, 'Excellent, except for the sandwiches'. You are then to reply, 'yes, I prefer them open too." Once the sign and counter signs are complete and correct he will give you the sandwich. Make sure it is never shut, or all is lost."_

"Where 'ey go?" Rico stood there, slightly puzzled. It had all happened very fast.

"Well don't look at me," Kowalski replied, "I'm routing for Hans. Somehow I feel a kindred spirit." Rico turned to Private.

"If only all these lies and twisted backstories would just stop," Private dodged the question, "I do wish everyone would just shake hands and be friends."

_"__How was your trip?" Skipper shouted across the moonlit field. Hard mission, yeah right. _

_"__Excellent, except for the sandwiches." Olsen replied, taking another step forward, though remaining wary. He'd never seen Agent Hans, he'd certainly never expected him to be a penguin, but it would make sense with his case record: his missions were predominantly behind Penguin lines._

_"__Yes, I prefer them open too." Finally, Olsen stepped forward, holding out a briefcase._

_"__The sandwich is inside. They say they've sent a Penguin out to get it back, so move quickly," Then Olsen noticed the fact that 'Hans' seemed to be holding something behind his back, "What are you…!" Skipper plunged the knife into the puffin's chest. He didn't need any witnesses. After all, the Penguins weren't supposed to be involved._

The two birds fell through the hole in the floor, Skipper landing with a crash on top of one of the stacks of crates.

"Tell me where Blowhole is, NOW!" Skipper demanded. He hated memories. Especially of Denmark, which may have been due to the fact that being constantly hunted for several years due to past events doesn't exactly make memories of them 'My favourite unofficial missions' material.

"I thought we'd been over this, Skippar," Hans refused, rolling with the impact and landing on his feet.

_"__Hand over the microfilm, Skippar!" Hans shouted. Hans had known what had happened the moment he saw the bloodstain, the body gone. It hadn't taken him long to track down the other bird. Now both birds were stood opposite each other on the dock like some Wild West showdown._

_"__First come, first serve, Hans," Skipper shouted back, the briefcase in hand. He still hadn't gotten time to destroy the microfilm. Suddenly he rushed forward, attacking the puffin, attempting to hit him over the head with the heavy briefcase, "Winner keeps the microfilm!"_

_Suddenly an insanely bright light snapped on above the bird's heads, lighting up the slippery wooden boards below them._

_"__See the spotlight, Skippar. My backup has arrived," Hans shouted, motioning to the helicopter above them from which the beam came, the penguin was temporarily blinded by the sudden bright light. Hans used this opportunity to make a dive for one of the fish, which were almost spilling from a net next to him. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it would have to do, "You have already failed."_

_"__There's still plenty of time, Hans!" skipper shouted back, grabbing a fish of his own. Hans' fish slapped across the penguin's flipper, who immediately released the briefcase, cursing. The two birds made a dive for the briefcase, Hans arriving only a split second before. Still, Skipper wasn't going to give up that easily._

Hans looked around the room, which was only illuminated only by the light from the hole in the roof up above.

"Ah yes, a spotlight, just like Denmark." Hans reminisced, walking the perimeter, his eyes focused on skipper like a lion circling its prey. Skipper grabbed a fish from the floor, which had spilled from a crate the force of his fall had broken, and lunged at the Puffin, who ducked under the attack, grabbing a fish of his own just as Skipper swung his fish downward.

"You never learned to think, Skippar." Hans criticized, his fish countering Skipper's downward strike.

"Randomly hitting buttons on the computer until you activated the whole base's defences!" Private screamed, barely dodging a laser beam, "Are you insane, Rico?!"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure he is." Kowalski replied, not really seeming to care. _Hm, that would be ironic if I died _now Kowalski thought _I'd be the second history penguin commando history to have two funerals, but then maybe I don't count since I am technically a traitor_…

"Thinking morbid thoughts aren't helping, Kowalski!" Private shouted back, trying to find a laser free part of the room, or at least a Swiss Delight or Nilla Cream.

"Well, it' gon' get 'im event'ally." Rico defended, honestly not seeing any problem with the action.

_The two birds dived for cover behind a stack of crates, the helicopter raining bullets on the birds. _

_"__It would seem the microfilm is more important than you." Skipper taunted, continuing to attack the puffin, using the flying splinters as a smokescreen._

_"__Do you want to have your head shot off?!" Hans screamed. It was difficult and dangerous for both of them to duck and fight at the same time, "Do they train all you rookies to be suicidal!?" Skipper dodged Hans' kick as a huge splinter flew past him and into the water, passing the area the penguin had been only moments before. _

_"__No, we just aren't scardy cats." Skipper snatched the briefcase back from Hans._

_Suddenly, the crate behind the two exploded forward onto the two birds, knocking them, the crate, and everything around it into the water._

"In Denmark it was real bullets, but lasers are good enough." Hans commented, diving for cover behind one of the crates on his side of the room, the wall of lasers dividing him and Skipper.

"For Mackerel's sake, stop reminiscing!" Skipper shouted angrily, finding his own cover behind a forklift.

"Oh come now, Skippar, don't tell me you don't like it." Hans smiled venomously, "I remember when you were new to all this, so reckless, so driven," Skipper growled at the continued criticism, deserting his cover and zigzagging across the floor, towards the puffin, narrowly dodging the lasers. Hans frowned boredly. The action was not unexpected. Well, at least there was the possibility Skipper's famous luck would run out… but that was unlikely, "And it would seem you haven't learned much since then. Tisk tisk." Hans ducked under the rapidly approaching Skipper's punch, "Bad qualities for an agent seeking a career longer than two missions."

"If I remember correctly your career only lasted three solo missions." Skipper climbed up the side of the crates Hans had stepped behind.

"They were very long and important missions." Skipper kicked the crates down, Hans diving to the side at the last minute. However, the crates smashed through the weak floor, deflecting off the barnacle encrusted stilts holding up the building and into the water below, "You missed." Suddenly the pile of crates Skipper was stood on started to wobble.

"Oh swordfish." Skipper muttered as the whole stack collapsed, taking much of the surrounding floorboards, and himself and Hans, with them.

_For a split second Hans was stunned. Only for a split second. Immediately, he was taking stock of his surroundings. The water was filled with gigantic splinters of wood, bits of flotsam and jetsam, and several briefcases that had been in the crates. Briefcases... _

Skipper slammed into one of the support pillars, only saved from losing the skin on his back by a plank that had ended up between him and the pillar. He still ended up covered in splinters, which, in his opinion, weren't much better than needles. Skipper panicked, thrashing about in the ice cold water. Hans smiled at the irony of this as he dived beneath the surface, grabbing the penguin from behind, pulling him down. Hans knew, normally, a penguin would be able to spend far longer underwater than him, but Skipper's constant panicking caused him to lose precious air shouting. Hans hoped he'd be able to outlast him.


	9. Doris

Skipper felt himself dragged down from behind. _Pull it together, soldier _he mentally ordered himself, forcing the fear into the back of his mind. If there was one thing that could block out the thoughts of the tiny incisions in his back, was the possibility of his adversary, especially Hans, winning. Skipper propelled himself backwards through the water, much like a backflip on land, wrenching himself out of Hans' grasp. Immediately, Skipper swam towards the surface, Hans in pursuit.

He broke the surface, spinning upwards in a corkscrew motion, grabbing onto one of the planks as gravity took hold and pulled him back towards the water, and Hans. Well, not Hans. Hans was holding on to his foot. Skipper was tempted to shout 'No hitchhiking!' but he was currently gasping for breath, and at the same time as trying to swing himself, and by extension, Hans, back up into the room.

_"__You failed, Hans. They don't let failures keep failing." Skipper smirked as the two stood just inside the warehouse. Skipper's knife was pointed at Hans, keeping him away from the briefcase, though he was facing the door. Skipper doubted Hans would run, "And it would seem you've managed to annoy one of the higher-ups the way they're shooting at you." _

_"__The same applies to you; you've failed your mission too." Hans replied as Skipper opened the briefcase. Inside was the sandwich. _

_"__Well, maybe we can be cellmates before your inquiry?" Skipper replied, "We can play 'who gets sentenced to life first'."_

_"__I don't think so," Hans dived off into the darkness, leaving Skipper to take the blame and the sandwich. He'd already switched the fish, his mission was accomplished. Skipper shrugged. And they made Hans sound like some kind of espionage prodigy. Coward._

_"__Stop there!" the officer shouted in Danish, nearing the doorway. Skipper just smiled one half of the sandwich in each wing. There was a brilliant flash of light as the two chemicals met. Skipper smiled at the shocked expression on the increasing number of Danish officer's faces. _

_"__What the sardines." Skipper laughed almost insanely, placing a small Penguin flag he had in his tool bag on the closed sandwich. He was going to be arrested anyway._

"I realise what you did all those years ago," Skipper shouted. He had the upper wing: Hans was backed into the corner, Skipper the only one with a fish, "You set me up!"

"I set you up?!" it was your crime!" Hans replied, dodging Skipper's strike.

"You ran away, too much of a coward to face the consequences," Skipper snarled, going for Hans' head with the fish.

"I thought I'd switched the sandwiches, my work was done." Hans ducked.

"Don't play innocent, Hans. You knew I'd switched them back," Skipper lunged forward with the fish. Hans grabbed his wing, kneeing him in the arm, the pain of his wing breaking causing him to drop the fish, and then followed it with a head-butt, leaving Skipper lying on the ground, his vision swimming.

"You planned it all from the start: Olsen surviving just long enough to say it was Hans who killed him, but not long enough to identify a photograph."

"If I planned it from the start I wouldn't have spent three weeks in a Danish prison before Rockgut negotiated my release."

"Oh, dear Rockgut came to bail you out, did he," Hans spat, one foot planted firmly on Skipper's chest, keeping him down, his wing holding the fish held to his throat, "When I went back to my mentor, he turned me in. I barely escaped."

"_Barely escaped_," Skipper rolled his eyes, despite his less than perfect position, "You know, I think _you _planned it from the start. For some twisted reason, you wanted to start a war. Well, congratulations, you succeeded and got me blamed as 'the Penguin that started the war'. The only reason I wasn't offered up as a peace offering to the Squirrels is because I'm such a good agent."

"Who failed his first solo mission."

Suddenly, Skipper stopped struggling.

"Given up already, Skippar?" Hans taunted. Skipper didn't respond, instead sniffing the air. At first he hadn't noticed, by far overshadowed by the smell of the fish, but he recognised the perfume's familiar smell, which brought back some of the happiest, and yet most painful to remember moments in his life.

"Doris…"

* * *

"…yeah, he ain' hardly slept since the incident," the lobster answered sadly. Marlene sat on top of the concrete floe, conversing with her guard.

"I'm sorry to hear," Marlene looked down at her paws. She'd lost a friend before, in the Iceberg Pass attack, so she knew how he felt, but to go that far… Well, if she'd had those kind of resources at the time she probably would.

"The Dr's ready now." Another lobster poked his head out of the fishbowl. He gave Marlene a pitying glance before exiting the habitat. Marlene walked towards the fishbowl, descending the ladder as she had so many times before, though never with so much dread.

"You don't have to do this." Marlene stated, sighting the dolphin in a darkened area of the room. She tried not to look at the remodelling, all the defences activated, for a purpose Marlene equally wanted to avoid.

"That, of course, all depends on you. If you tell me where he is, I can make this quick and not have to move on to your neighbours." Blowhole answered coldly.

"I meant this whole revenge thing." Blowhole noticeably winced. Kowalski had said a similar thing to him once.

"Skipper's done too much to be allowed to live," Blowhole answered. Yes, Kowalski probably would be able to rest unavenged, and would actually prefer it (that penguin could be hit over the head with a sledge hammer by Rico and not even slap him back) but Blowhole couldn't, "Now, where are the penguins?"

"I have no idea. They always say those kind of things are too top secret for me to know," Marlene answered sarcastically. She had a point, but so far she was his only lead.

"Tell me what you do know, and hope it's useful." Blowhole answered. Marlene had to say, this wasn't the best situation to be in. Well, she was dead anyway, why not at least try to stall until Skipper returned.

"Right, um, they left a couple of hours before you got here." Marlene answered. She didn't think the time would be too important.

"I know that. Did they take any special equipment?"

"Does it look like I've got x-ray vision?" Marlene answered sarcastically.

"Alright, I'll rephrase that, did you see anything important _outside_ of Rico's stomach?"

"No."

"Did you notice anything unusual? Any maps…"

"This friend of yours, maybe you want to talk about him. Sometimes you feel better if…"

"Just answer the questions." Blowhole could see this otter probably knew more than the rest of the zoo residents, but then she was dangerously perceptive to his emotions. He just he hoped he could get the information out of her before she got too much out of him.

"Well, I think they've been having some disagreements amongst themselves," Marlene answered, "A couple of days ago, the team came back, but one of them, well… it seemed like they were guarding him."

"Explain how this is relevant."

"Well, for the next couple of days, I didn't see him outside for anything, and the penguins are keeping everyone out of the HQ. They also put bars on one of the windows. When they left today, one of them was wing cuffed to Rico."

"At least Private feels some kind of guilt." Blowhole muttered.

"No, actually it was…" Marlene almost corrected, then realised, if Blowhole found out where the penguins went, well, if he thought Private somehow felt guilty, he might leave the kid alone. Kowalski, Rico and Skipper could hold their own, but Private somehow seemed a bit young, "Yes, whatever it is you say they've done, I doubt Private was in on it until it was over."

"All ready to set the timer, boss." The lobster replied.

"You were serious…" Marlene gasped, staring at the bomb.

"You thought I wasn't?" Blowhole questioned, examining the timing device. Marlene stood up, running past the other prisoners and out of the lemur habitat. The lobster pretended his gun was jammed. He might consider himself only a lowly henchman, but from what he'd overheard of the Blowhole and Marlene's conversation, if anyone could get him out of the dark mood that had consumed him since Kowalski's death, it was her.

"You can't… not all of us…"

"This is war, Marlene. Entire cities are vaporised," He typed in the password, arming the weapon, "Be thankful I am only destroying the zoo. I am quite capable of taking the rest of the New York with it."

"You're mad at Skipper, not us!"

"Repeating previous arguments does not make them anymore valid." He set the countdown, and was about to lock it again, when suddenly a lobster ran up.

"Dr Blowhole!"

"What is it red one?" he asked impatiently. He wanted to get out of there and destroy the place before the persistent otter talked him out of it.

"We were checking those computers, just like you asked. Well, pretty much everything's gone, but the computer the virus that destroyed the data, was part of the Blake Inc. New York network."

"Doris…"


	10. One Of A Kind

"Doris?" Hans asked, as if the name wasn't familiar, "Who is this Doris?" The fish remained at Skipper's neck; Hans was not distracted as Skipper had hoped. Why'd he have to meet his match the day he wasn't able to ask for options. Then it occurred to Skipper.

"Kowalski, give me some options!" the penguin shouted.

"You've got to be kidding me, right." Kowalski replied from the room above. Sure, he could think of at least six ways to get Skipper out, the rest team were running around like headless chickens without a leader, but he had to say, if Skipper got a bit of a beating from Hans, that was a good thing. It wasn't like Skipper would lose.

"Doris was here!" Skipper shouted, though he half expected Kowalski would call him a liar. Still, he could try to appeal to what was left of their friendship. Now that just sounded too much like Blowhole for… No it, was nothing like Blowhole was doing.

"Now Skippar," Hans smiled, "I think I'll be the one who'll get the pleasure of bringing in Denmark's public enemy no. 1."

"Private! Rico! Now!" Skipper suddenly heard a voice shout. Kowalski had believed him?

There was a quiet thump, and suddenly the dark silhouettes of three penguins could be seen against the light streaming down on the floor above. Immediately, they darted off into the darkness. A few seconds later, Hans suddenly made a dive for the floor as a jet of flame shot out of the darkness, barely missing his head. He stumbled backwards, unable to dodge the blasts and keep the penguin pinned down. Skipper jumped up, snatched the fish from Hans' grasp, immediately smacking the villain across the face, knocking him out, a thin line of blood dribbling down the side of his face.

"Thanks compadre…" Kowalski glared at him as he slowly stepped into the light of the hole in the ceiling.

"So, do you believe me about Doris now?" He asked sharply, interrupting his leader. Private flinched. He hated any kind of conflict. Rico moved his left wing, and by extension Kowalski's since the two were chained together, reminding the bird not to try anything. Skipper stiffened uncomfortably. For that split second he'd forgotten him and his own teammate were enemies.

"I'm surprised you believed me." Skipper countered in a similar tone, trying to make up for his moment of weakness.

"Doris has been watching us the whole time. She had snipers outside the HQ, that's why I didn't escape." Kowalski answered.

"Kowalski I think you may be obsessed with…"

"Are you going to follow her or not?" Kowalski interrupted. If anyone was obsessed with their mortal enemy, it was Skipper, but he didn't have time to argue about that, "If we are, I don't have time to prove my claims."

"She may be able to lead us to her brother."

"You hopeless science hater…" Kowalski muttered, as he could think of no insult worse. With Skipper, everything had to come back to Blowhole, even the lemurs mysteriously discovering batteries for their boom box.

Private raised a flipper, but when his action was left unnoticed he had no choice but to interrupt the group, "I don't suppose we could work togeth…"

"I know exactly what we should do," Kowalski interrupted, ignoring the younger bird, "Why don't we work together."

* * *

Skipper looked about the room. Hopefully what she took would give them an indicator of where she went. Since she'd obviously had to leave in a hurry, she hopefully hadn't had time to remove clothing or items as 'red herrings'. Skipper looked through Doris' collection of dresses.

_"__Dresses, Doris?" Skipper asked incredulously, "Why would you need dresses?"_

_"__If they look good on the humans, they probably wouldn't do too badly for me." Doris' muffled voice replied through the closed door. Skipper continued to wait in the corridor outside her room as she got ready. Skipper looked down at the tickets in his flipper: Romeo and Juliet in Central Park. Well, he was no fan of Shakespeare, but it seemed like the kind of romantic thing to do for a date, and it was close to the base. With all the rumours of Blowhole being in town, that was a good idea._

_Finally Doris exited her room wearing a light blue chiffon dress, tailored to fit her dolphin form. Skipper's draw nearly dropped. _

_"__You like it?" Doris asked, twirling around to show it off. _

_"__Beautiful." Skipper replied, noting the unique, almost signature, smile on her face: flattered yet trying to remain modest. He'd never met a girl like Doris before, and he doubted he ever would again._

_"__I would have worn the one you got me, but I never wear pink to the theatre."_

"She's gone somewhere in the country," Skipper stated, the memory twisting the knife in the already open wound, "All the navy blue clothes are gone." Doris had her own peculiar dress code.

"No…" Kowalski shook his head, "She revised all that after she… Well, now she only wears that colour to 'work'." Skipper scowled. Kowalski _just had _to be the other guy.

"Well, I guess you just know her better than me." Skipper snapped. As much as he liked to say otherwise, he loved Doris as much as he thought she loved him, and still did. He knew it wasn't Kowalski's fault, he didn't know who Doris' ex was, but he still blamed Kowalski. It was easier.

"No need to be a sore loser." Kowalski muttered, though immediately regretted his choice in words. Skipper turned his back on the scientist, examining the luggage.

"Everything seems to be there, Skipper." Kowalski replied, also examining the line of suitcases.

"No, not everything" Skipper replied, smirking at Kowalski's confused expression, "You know, the backpack? Or did you never go camping with her?"

"So she's going somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, at work." Kowalski answered. Score: Kowalski1, Skipper 1, "Now, since you seem to be the subject matter expert, why don't you tell me where she is?"

"Well, it is my company."

"_Was _your company," Kowalski reminded.

"I meant about Doris, and yes I did know her better than you," the two penguins glared at each other, the tension rising.

"She never loved you; she was just using you!"

"She used_ you_!"

"I loved her!"

"_I_ loved her!"

"SHE LOVED ME MORE THAN YOU!" the two penguins screamed in unison.

The room fell silent. The two penguins looked at each other. Suddenly, Kowalski began to laugh. Skipper looked at him as if he'd finally succeeded and broken him. Then he began to laugh too.

"Well, it would seem we're both gullible love sick fools." Kowalski laughed.

"Yeah," Skipper admitted, then his face turned to an expression of mock seriousness, "But I'm a more gullible fool than you are." Kowalski's face adopted a similar expression.

"No, no, I'm far more gullible than you." The two penguins laughed at their childish joke. Slowly the laughter petered away, returning the two to their serious expressions, though not quite as serious as they'd once been. Skipper looked down at his feet.

"I guess she really is the threat." Skipper admitted, a sad smile on his face, "At least to us."

"Which unfortunate pair of twins does that remind you of?" Kowalski commented. Sure, he could say 'I told you so' but he didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Good old Manfridi and Johnson," Skipper shook his head at the memory, "Another case too painful to reopen."

"I guess that's why you never wanted to acknowledge her as a threat."

"I it's a bit too late for denial now," Skipper looked about the room, his mind returning to the case at hand, "Well, somewhere to do with Blake Inc. in the middle of nowhere…"

* * *

_Kowalski stared up at the sky, Doris' flipper in his wing._

_"__All those galaxies out there," Doris sighed, "I wonder if there are other dolphins out there."_

_"__Well, hopefully, within our lifetimes, science will be able to answer that," Kowalski replied._

_"__I hope there aren't." Doris continued to stare at the sky, a mournful expression on her face._

_"__You hope there aren't?"_

_"__I hope there aren't," she turned to Kowalski, "Or at least, if there is some form of intelligent life out there, they're intelligent enough not to start a war." Kowalski nodded, staring off, literally, into space._

_"__Well, at least for now, let's pretend we're on one of those theoretical non-violent planets." Doris smiled. Kowalski smiled back at her. As perfect as Doris' planet sounded, he'd never want to be anywhere but right here, since, despite possibly infinite worlds, there was no one else like Doris._


	11. The Otter Who Cared Too Much

"Whoa, wait a minute," Marlene chased after the dolphin, who was now just exiting the zoo, "Who's this Doris?"

"Any intelligent mammal would be thankful for the fact that my attention has wondered from annihilating you and would keep quiet in hopes of not disrupting the status quo." The exasperated dolphin commented, without turning around.

"Well, since we were becoming such close friends…"

"I don't have any friends."

"Okay, fine, so I've taken an interest in your case. Now, who's this Doris?"

"Shut up." Blowhole increased his speed, hoping to lose the persistent otter.

"Oh, come on," Marlene protested, barely keeping up with the dolphin, "I told you all those secrets, why can't you tell me some of yours. Then we'd be even."

"Why are you still following me?!" Blowhole asked. He honestly could see no logical reason for the otter's behaviour. He hated anything illogical, or magical. Just like… Nope, don't go there. He looked to the lobster acting as his personal assistant, who was struggling to keep up the pace, "Red one, why is she still following me?"

"Um…" the lobster struggled to think of an answer that would keep him away from the pot of boiling water beside the movie butter.

"If this is about the Alaskan cruise, I'm not giving in no matter how long I have to put up with her…"

"We're here, doc."

The lobby of Blake Inc. was packed with penguins in ties, talking, carrying enormous stacks of paper, and just generally getting in Blowhole's way. However, as soon as the dolphin began to make it known he would vaporise the next person who obstructed his passage for more than two seconds, the lobby soon cleared, giving him time to look at the mostly original Art Deco interiors. Doris had strange tastes. He would have modernised the whole place

"Pen-gu-in," Blowhole shouted, pointing to a penguin making for one of the elevators. The penguin turned around a comical 'Who? Me?' expression on his face, "Yes, you. Come over here," The penguin could see there was no way out of the encounter, the elevator was on the tenth floor, so tentatively approached the small group, "I've often seen you with my sister. Where is she?"

"I… Mrs Grant gave instructions that…"

"Where is she?" Blowhole repeated, not bothering to disguise his impatience.

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to divulge her location."

"Oh come on," Marlene rolled her eyes, "you didn't expect them to just _tell_ you."

"No, otter, I didn't," Blowhole replied, though he had actually expected an answer. Still, the fragments of a serviceable plan were already starting to piece together in his mind. He turned as if he was going to leave, driving towards the door, "Oh well, then I'm not going to tell you where I've got him."

"Got who?"

"Blake Grant."

"That's impossible." The penguin replied, looking incredibly confused.

"Otter, is the pen-gu-in dead?"

"Skipper? Of course not," Marlene answered on impulse, "But aren't you trying to find…"

"I have him, and I'm sure Doris would want to know that."

"Wait a minute…" Marlene protested, beginning to catch on to Blowhole's plan.

"Shut up, otter," Blowhole interrupted before Marlene could ruin his plan, "Now, are you going to tell me where Doris is, or not?"

* * *

Kowalski stared up at the stars in the sky, the trees surrounding the clearing they had set up camp in framing the scene. That was really all he could. Skipper wasn't talking to him, their heart to heart talk moment had quickly faded, nor was Rico, and Private had gone out to get fire wood.

"Great Private Eggy!" Skipper spontaneously exclaimed waving Kowalski's 'commandeered' tablet in the air.

"What's wrong Skippah?" Private asked, his tone concerned.

"That evil dolphin!" The penguin ranted, "It's one thing to go after me, but Marlene! Turning an innocent girl to the ways of crime, that's just not done!" Skipper replayed the part of the news video that had caught his attention:

"… the body found in the wreckage of the gondola only resembled the billionaire, and the actual Blake Grant was kidnapped before he was supposed to board his ski lift ride of doom, and so was not killed in what has now been revealed to have been an assassination attempt by parties unknown," the make-up plastered host narrated, "However the current talk of the town is the budding alleged Bonny and Clyde relationship between his two kidnappers: New York's own notorious Dr Blowhole, and what everyone thought was just an innocent hostage from the Central Park Zoo attack…"

"Don't smash the tablet Skipper!" Kowalski screamed frantically, but the furious penguin had already vented his anger at yet another electronic messenger of bad news.

"Marlene and Blowhole!?" skipper stalked off into the woods surrounding the team's encampment.

* * *

"I just want to help." Marlene pleaded as she continued to follow the cavalcade of lobsters towards the docks where Blowhole's submarine waited.

"Oh Californium," Blowhole muttered, "You do know, you're more annoying than Mort."

"I don't think you find me annoying at all," Marlene theorised, "I think you like having someone to talk to; you just don't want to admit it to yourself."

"Otter, I assure I have never met anyone with logic more flawed than yours."

"Oh really," Marlene, seeing an opportunity to prove her theory smiled like a fox finally having cornered its prey, "Fine then, I invoke the Two Minutes."

"What! How do you know about…?!" Blowhole's reaction was far from that which she had expected. She had predicted he would be annoyed, and probably try to find an excuse to get out of it, but he seemed outright horrified.

"Oh, Kowalski used it with Maurice to get him to admit he put glue on Julian's chair so he'd be stuck there and wouldn't be able to force him to dance all night. In the end it turned out…" it was then that Marlene noticed the dolphin's change in expression, from horrified to almost… angry? "I'm sorry… I mean, I thought it was just something he came up with…"

"It's fine." He answered, though it's real meaning was that the matter was closed. He'd always thought the two minutes were something special.

"Was that something you did with your friend?" Marlene guessed, though now it was obvious.

"Something like that."

"So, was your friend the one who got you out of the Aquarium?" Marlene changed her tack, returning to the brute force method AKA keep asking questions until the victim gets so annoyed he just answers them, "I mean, that place was – is – practically inescapable."

"No, no, I did that myself," Blowhole cringed slightly at the memory of just how he'd gotten out. It hadn't been pleasant, not to mention it cost him his eye, "And before you ask how, it's a trade secret," Blowhole paused, another thought occurring to him. Marlene was already surprised he'd answered the question in the first place, "I suppose you could say he got me out, mentally, that is. I'd gotten beyond the walls, even gone to university, but I always felt like I was somehow still locked up. Then, when I found him again, I finally felt like I'd escaped."

"I wish I'd met him. He sounds like he was a nice guy."

"Oh, you did. He was one of the Penguins. Till the day he died." Marlene remembered Johnson. He was slightly nerdy, and certainly got on well with Kowalski, "Red one?"

"Yes doc?"

"Please escort… Marlene… back to the zoo," Blowhole instructed.

Marlene immediately began to protest. She was starting to make some progress, "If you think…"

"I'm going after Skipper. I don't want to get another person caught in the crossfire."

* * *

Kowalski had picked the lock on his chains hours ago, but hadn't revealed the fact until the other penguins were almost definitely asleep. While he was waiting, made easier by the fact everyone else had been preoccupied with trying to find Skipper, he'd managed to procure a backpack, some food, a knife, his options clipboard, and his tablet: its damage only went as far as a badly cracked screen. His equipment now gathered and double-checked, Kowalski exited his tent, and was about to leave, when he spotted Private's tent, illuminated by his lunicorn nightlight. There was one more thing he had to do before he left.


	12. Everyone's Found Doris

**Ok, bad writers block on this story, but I've got some new ideas now (I really should learn to plan ahead more). Anyway, hopefully chapters should be more frequent.**

It had taken him a precious hour and a half but everything was all set. Kowalski returned to his tent, picked up one of the empty mess tins, and walked over to Private's tent. He checked that everyone else was sleeping soundly, then dropped the mess tin on the area of tent just above Private's head and then bent over to pick it up as if he'd just dropped it despite the fact it was obvious the young penguin had been woken.

"K'walski?" Private poked his head out of the tent groggily.

"Private?!" Kowalski exclaimed in a hushed voice.

"What are you doing?" Private asked a little louder, too tired to realise how the events before him resembled an escape attempt.

"Shhh, not so loud," Kowalski hissed, "I'm leaving Private. I think I can fix all of this up if I can just talk to Blowhole. He's just angry and confused, and well, lashing out at the first thing he sees," Kowalski started walking again, "Don't try and stop me Private." Kowalski was almost to the edge of the clearing when Private spoke.

"Can I come with you?"

"What? Private, this is a dangerous mission." Kowalski protested, though the boy had acted exactly as predicted.

"But if Skippah attacks Blowhole head on like he intends to," Private mused, "I'll be in even more danger." Private, was overjoyed to find out that someone else wanted to try a diplomatic solution. Wild horses couldn't hold him back from making sure it would work out.

"I still don't think…"  
"Please?" Private begged, growing close to hypercute.

"Alright, just, when I tell you to hide, well… hide," Kowalski surrendered, "Don't try and be heroic, you're too close to Skipper for Blowhole not to attack you on sight."

"Thanks K'walski," Private leapt up from his tent, grabbed his lunicorn, and started to run towards Kowalski. However, the pink ribbon on Private's lunicorn caught the side of the tent, and came undone. Private started to run back to the tent to retrieve it.

"Come on, Private." Kowalski ordered. He didn't have time to be delayed by lunacorn accessories.

"But my…"

"The longer we stick around the more likely it is Skipper wakes up."

"Oh, alright." Private started off towards the forest, reluctantly leaving the ribbon behind.

* * *

"Who was watching Kowalski last night?!" Skipper demanded, looking down at the empty shackles, "Well?"

"Wasn' me." Rico grunted. He'd been sound asleep until Skipper had started shouting.

"Where's Private?" Skipper demanded, marching over to the tent, "Rise and shine Private. We have an escapee, and every moment you keep sleeping Kowalski gets closer to giving away our…" Having received no answer Skipper had pulled back the covers the youngest member of the team was undoubtedly hiding beneath only to find a strategically folded blanket, "Private?"

"Lo' at 'is," Rico held up the pink ribbon snagged on the tent, "he been talkin' 'oo mi' perky."

"No Rico," Skipper scrutinised the ribbon, "you didn't take a spare hair ribbon." Then Skipper from this seemed to deduce the owner, and assuming Rico had too, started to dismantle the tent.

"Then who i' from?" Rico asked bewildered.

"It's obvious, Doris." Skipper paused, as in realising something was missing, "Damnit, she's taken our food."

* * *

_Wait for it… _Kowalski thought _3, 2, 1…_

"K'walski, my feet are starting to hurt." Private complained. Kowalski pretended to check his map.

"We've got another eight miles to go," Kowalski replied, "I know we passed an old cabin on the way here yesterday."

"Oh alright." Private replied eagerly, following Kowalski off the trail. Poor Private, always so naive and gullible, though in this case it might save his life.

The cottage looked like it hadn't been abandoned long, judging by the condition of the wood. Kowalski didn't know why such a good place would be left abandoned, but it suited his purposes. It was actually only a five-minute walk from the camp but he'd walked Private around in circles until roughly the time he predicted his feet would get tired.

"Feel better?" Kowalski asked, after Private had sat down on one of the wooden chairs around the table in the centre of the table. Private was too busy removing his boots to notice Kowalski put down the medium sized cardboard box he'd been carrying most of the trip.

"A bit chilly," Private replied, "Don't suppose I could light a fire?"

"Go for it," Kowalski replied, pausing by the door. He knew he really should get going, but he still reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver packet, "I've got some MRE hot chocolate as well."

"Thanks K'walski," Private replied as Kowalski set to work lighting the fire and setting the water above it to boil for the hot chocolate. Then, after checking his watch, Kowalski stood up and began to walk towards the door, "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving Private," Kowalski stated. The abandoned manufacturing plant was a good five miles away, and if he was going to get to Doris, and via Doris, Blowhole, before Skipper, he was already pushing it time wise.

"Give me a second, I'll just get my…"

"You aren't coming. In fact I'm going to lock you in," This was his battle, and he'd somehow gotten everyone he cared about dragged into it. There was no way Skipper was going to drag Private after Blowhole and Doris, knowing full well he was probably going to get all of them killed, but of course, Skipper didn't care, as long as he got Blowhole, "That box has enough food to last you a month, which should be enough time for Skipper to work out where you are if I don't make it back to let you out myself. I've checked the cabin, it has running water and a couple of books I found quite interesting at your age."

"You aren't seriously…"

"Yes Private, I've officially kidnapped you. I just didn't want you to get hurt," Kowalski had to admit, that last statement had cost him a lot in planning and preparation. If he hadn't had second thoughts about just knocking the kid over the head and dragging him off, he could have reached his objective before dawn, "I'm sorry it came to this. I never wanted any of you dragged into any of it." And with that, he shut the door, leaving Private to listen to the crunch of footsteps as he walked off into the forest.

* * *

_Doris had sat by the door of the HQ almost two days, waiting._

_"You should get some sleep." Johnson recommended, noting the dark circles under her eyes._

_"I can't," Doris replied._

_"Sitting by the door isn't helping Skipper, it's just hurting you, which by extension would probably hurt Skipper."_

_"I know," Skipper had disappeared after taking the afternoon off, most of the team suspected this was to buy Doris' birthday present. They'd received one call, in which he stated he was on the trail of a dolphin, but the call had cut off before he could elaborate further, "I'm just worried about him. He's never been gone this long before, not without telling me."_

_"Well that would be a first," Manfridi commented, "He never tells us where he disappears off to."_

_"I guess that's why you're both so calm. I wish I had the confidence you…" Doris was interrupted by the sound of someone banging on the fishbowl. Immediately she rushed towards it, opening the door to see Skipper, bruised and bleeding, but alive._

_"Miss me?"_

_"…I was trying to warn you when I was ambushed," Skipper reported, "I'd been tracking this dolphin for almost a day when it occurred to me Doris might be wondering where I was," Skipper smiled at his girl, "I guess they thought I was calling in reinforcements, because those lobsters seemed pretty rushed. Anyway, the floor of the phone booth dropped out from under me and I landed in some kind of secret lair."_

_"Well, don't keep us in suspense any longer," Manfredi prompted, "Who was this mysterious dolphin?"_

_The humorous tone disappeared from Skipper's voice, and his face darkened, "Remember that kid back at the aquarium? It was him. Blowhole." _

_"Blowhole?" Doris stuttered, looking like she'd seen a ghost. He hadn't been heard of in years. She'd only learned of his existence as it was the reason her mother's first marriage had broken up; her husband hadn't been able to cope with their son's disappearance and the rumours that he had defected to the enemy._

_"Yes," Skipper replied, slightly confused, "why?"_

_"Oh, nothing."_

_"You're probably still upset about what happened," Skipper concluded, " Alright, Johnson, request all the data on this Blowhole character you can. He seemed like quite the formidable foe. Manfredi, I want you to…"_

_"Skipper?" Doris asked._

_"Yes?"_

_"I've actually never seen you work on a case. I don't suppose I could watch?"_

_"Sure, I just thought it would bore you." Skipper replied. Doris was determined to meet this long lost step brother._

"What did I do to her to make her go this far?" Skipper thought aloud, "I always gave her everything, I just don't get it."

"Where 'ee take Pri'ate?" Rico asked, returning Skipper to the topic at hand.

"Well if what she left behind is to be believed," Skipper replied, "the only property she'd have access to without her brother knowing in the area, would be the old manufacturing plant, which is why I dragged you out into the middle of nowhere. It's pretty close to here."

* * *

"Do we have an address yet, red one?" Blowhole asked irritably. He had to admit, he was starting to miss the annoying otter. Now he had nobody to talk to but the red ones, who weren't particularly agile when it came to conversation.

"Nope, he's still talkin' to someone about havin' to hold up the fuselage production because whoever he's mad at hasn't met the quota for engines."

"And I thought Doris was using all that money to pay for some grand scheme she was working on," Blowhole commented. The engines for all aircraft had been outsourced internationally for some time, "now I know he's wasting money on unnecessary international calls."

"No doc, 's not an international call. We've traced the number to the old Jack the Knife plant." The lobster replied.

"The what?"

"Sorry, that's just we call it. It's the Greater Tinyville plant. We just call it the Jack the Knife plant 'cause it was shut down ten years ago 'cause the workers said the place was haunted by the ghost of Jack the Knife. I don' believe in ghosts, but something scared them all…"

"The call is obviously some kind of code, undoubtedly warning Doris of my imaginary bargaining chip," Blowhole deduced.

"I don't…"

"All you need to comprehend, lesser intellect, is that I will require some form of transport to this Jack the Knife plant as almost certainly Doris is hiding there."


End file.
